


Black Canaries and Yellow Roses

by PsychoCircus



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoCircus/pseuds/PsychoCircus
Summary: In the midst of the team still dealing with Laurel's death, working out the kinks of the new recruits, and dealing with the rash of small time hoods taking advantage of the recent chaos, the team gets an unexpected visitor:  a friend of Laurel's from her trip to National City last year, who is unaware of Laurel's death.  This is somewhat of a sequel to my Supergirl fic Not At It Seems, which can be found here - http://archiveofourown.org/works/7679398





	1. Chapter 1

**AN** \- This story is somewhat of a sequel to my Supergirl fic _Not As It Seems_ , where Supergirl and Laurel met, in my particular universe. In this interpretation of the CW shows, _Arrow, the Flash, Supergirl,_ and _Legends of Tomorrow_ along with all the other DC Comics properties all live and breathe in the same multiverse, as they do in the comics. There is none of this Supergirl and Superman existing on a different Earth than Green Arrow, the Flash, and the others nonsense here. Here, all traditional Earth One characters are on Earth One. Earth Two characters, like Jay Garrick, are on Earth Two, etc. This fic will primarily follow the respective TV shows, but it will have some comics continuity incorporated as well. I hope you enjoy!

 

**Chapter 1**

 

The cool November wind blew across the expanse of Star City Memorial Gardens cemetery. It was late in the day, the sun was almost to the horizon, and the bright oranges and pinks of the fading light on the underside of the wispy clouds were slowly fading with the light. It was a particularly chilly day in Northern California, where Star City was situated, not far from the Washington border, but none of that mattered.

With flowers in hand, a bright bouquet of yellows, whites and reds, Oliver Queen, mayor of Star City made his way through the veritable ocean of headstones towards one in particular, located in the back quarter, under a beautiful oak tree. The grave of Laurel Lance, the Black Canary. 

He was alone, as he often was when he came to the cemetery, even though occasionally Felicity would come with him. Oliver had known Laurel for most of his life, in fact, he couldn’t remember a moment where he _hadn’t_ known her. They’d been inseparable friends during their childhood, along with Tommy Merlyn, Oliver’s best friend. As they grew older, they became sweethearts, and later lovers. Many was the smile and peals of laughter that Laurel’s memory brought him, but there was a good degree of pain that these memories also brought lately.

Nine years ago, Oliver had set his fate in motion, unknowingly. Nine years ago, he had gone on a long cruise with his father, Robert Queen, on the family yacht, the _Queen’s Gambit._ Nine years ago, he had betrayed Laurel’s trust, and the love they shared, on a whimsical dalliance with Laurel’s younger sister, Sara. Instead of taking Laurel on that trip, he had opted to take Sara instead. 

Oliver smirked at himself, remembering the brash, foolish, and utterly _stupid_ punk ass kid he’d been, the rich, selfish, self absorbed, spoiled billionaire playboy, who attracted the attention of women, and who enjoyed that attention all too much. He had been such a different person then, so different that now he couldn’t imagine ever being such a person, if the memories weren’t there in very vivid relief in his own mind, etched with the certainty of words carved in stone.

His time, stranded on the island of Lian Yu, a small island off the coast of China, had hardened him, changed him, transformed him into the man that would eventually become who he was now. He had learned that he had far more in him than he would ever have believed, in order to survive not only the island, but also the perils from the outside world that it lured in as well. Oliver had learned that when faced with survival, a man will do almost _anything_ to ensure that survival, things such a man would never even contemplate under normal circumstances.

Even now, the ghosts of his experiences on Lian Yu haunted him, tore at his very soul. Despite that, he had found a light in his life that he never expected to find after he’d returned home, and found out that Laurel knew about him taking Sara on the trip, a trip that both presumed had killed Sara. Later they learned that Sara had indeed survived, had been taken in by the League of Assassins, and had been trained as one of the world’s most deadly killing machines.

At first, Laurel couldn’t bring herself to forgive Oliver for cheating on her with her own sister, and then for foolishly taking her off to her death, and Oliver’s own very close brush with that dark specter. The hurt had finally diminished, become an old wound, and she could forgive him, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel about him the way she once had. 

After months of long, painful association, they’d learned to be friends again, and move past the failed relationship they’d once had. Eventually, Laurel had fallen in love with his best friend, Tommy, and Oliver had himself fallen in love with the quirky, but brilliant, IT person that worked for his company, Felicity Smoak. Both were happy, and happy for each other, until the terrible thing that Oliver’s mother, Moira, and Tommy’s father, Malcolm, had been planning for years finally came to light. The event they called the Undertaking, which would have destroyed the Glades, and who knew how many people along the way.

After Oliver had returned, with a mission his father had set in motion when he revealed the sort of dirty dealings that were going on, that he himself had been involved in, and pleaded that Oliver promise to set right the wrongs he had done, the young playboy became the vigilante known originally as the Hood, and had hunted down and killed people on the list his father had given him. In a way, Oliver thought that doing something “good” like this would be his penance, his absolution in a way, of the terrible things both he and his father had done, all at once. That wasn’t exactly the effect it had, however.

Time passed, and others came into Oliver’s life, people who would become friends, and more, that joined his crusade to make Star City a better place. John Diggle, originally hired by Moira to be his bodyguard, had eventually become his best friend, especially after Tommy had been killed in the Undertaking. Now, John was more a brother to him than a friend. Felicity, the beautiful, quirky nerdy girl that had been such a genius, and an indispensable help, had also joined the crusade, and eventually the two had fallen in love, though it would be years before either would admit to such a thing.

Events eventually turned that love sour, however, and Oliver still hoped and prayed that his light, his passion, his angel, in the guise of Felicity Smoak, would eventually return to him once more. So far, that didn’t seem to be happening, but there was always hope, he felt.

Tommy and Laurel had fallen in love somewhere along the way, and had been engaged, but that had abruptly ended when Tommy had been killed. Not long after that, Laurel had joined his crusade, joining him, John and Felicity in their fight to make Star City a good place, a safe place for good people. Everything changed when Damien Dahrk first darkened the city limits of Star City.

For months, the former League of Assassins member had tormented and taunted Team Arrow, as Felicity called them, with crimes, murders, and worse. Dahrk had transcended the ages old methods of the League, and had turned to a new ally, magic. This made him all the more dangerous, to say the least, and it put the entire in dire jeopardy when his little venture, his “ark,” became the focal point of his mayhem. Dahrk intended to destroy the world, except for his chosen lackeys, and to rebuild the world in his image after the nuclear destruction he intended to submit the world to had passed.

Dahrk’s venture of destroying the world had failed, but not before his madness claimed Laurel’s life. During a confrontation with Dahrk, after several of Oliver’s friends had been captured by the mad magician, Dahrk had driven a final knife into Oliver’s heart by murdering Laurel, the Black Canary, before his eyes with Oliver’s own arrow, and he had been helpless to stop it. Dahrk had stabbed the arrow deep into Laurel’s chest, delivering a wound that was very serious, and ultimately would prove fatal.

Laurel had died in the hospital, after being given a prognosis of recovery, though it would be touch and go for a while, with Oliver at her bedside. They’d come full circle, Laurel and Oliver, and once again had become the friends they’d become in their childhood. Despite what the doctors had said, Laurel seemed to know that they were somehow wrong, and that her time was limited.

While she’d appreciated the kindness and affection of all her friends, she’d requested to speak to Oliver alone. During that conversation, Laurel confessed many things, many feelings to him, but moments before her body gave way to death, she had said something that still rang in Oliver’s ears, even to this day.

She had said, “I’m really glad that you found Felicity. I hope you find your way back to her. And Ollie, I know that I’m not the love of your life, but _you_ will always be the love of _mine._ ”

Oliver was dumbstruck, but had asked, “Why are you telling me this? Why now?” He wasn’t sure of what she had been leading up to.

“Because,” she said, “tonight, it was just a reminder that anything could happen. Which is why I need you to promise me something.” 

He had had a creeping feeling of what was about to happen, though he had hoped and prayed it wouldn’t. At her request, however, he had said simply, “Anything.”

She had paused at that point, and then whispered, “Please…please don’t let me be the last Canary. That way, a part of me will always be out there with you.”

There had been other things said that night, but those words, that conversation, is what filled his mind when he thought of Laurel’s last moments. Those last whispered words tore at him, ripped him apart inside, and left him exposed, raw, and bleeding inside. He had promised her that she wouldn’t be the last, but he still couldn’t bring himself to try and train someone else to fill her place.

These thoughts, these memories, so vivid and real, as if they were taking place right at that moment instead of months ago, played through his mind. Until his hyper awareness subconsciously told him that he wasn’t alone.

His body automatically, immediately, went into stealth mode, prepared for any unexpected event, any attack that might spring out at him at any moment. _Of course, it could simply be another mourner standing at the grave of a loved one near Laurel’s grave,_ he thought. _But **nothing** in my life is ever that simple._

His eyes caught on the form of a woman, with dishwater blonde hair, wrapped in a dark colored jacket, standing in front of Laurel’s grave. Suspicion immediately made it’s way into his mind, and he approached even more cautiously, coming up behind the woman. He prepared himself to reach out, grab her by the shoulder, and ask her pointedly what she was doing at Laurel’s grave.

Even though he’d revealed to the city that Laurel had been the Black Canary, and her legacy inspired many citizens who would visit her grave occasionally, both to honor the Black Canary, and Laurel Lance, Assistant District Attorney for Star City, who’s tenure was filled with cases being brought to justice, he wasn’t accustomed to running into people doing so at the time of his visits.

Before he could reach out, the woman suddenly whirled, obviously prepared for a fight. The quick movements, the battle readiness, the hard icy glare from blue eyes that were usually so warm could only belong to one person.

Her lips quirked upwards for a very brief moment upon seeing him, and she let out a breath and lowered her hands. “I should have known it’d be you, Ollie,” the woman said, righting herself to a normal stance. Though she held it in check very well, the pain was obvious to someone that knew her as well as he did. Her face, normally cheerful, was muted and somber. Her eyes held both the sadness and pain of Laurel’s death, but also the seething, burning fire of the thirst, the _need_ for vengeance. A fire that was rapidly consuming all it came into contact with inside the woman’s heart.

“Sara,” said Oliver, as his own hyper ready stance became more relaxed. “What are you doing here? I thought you and the others were still doing your thing, keeping an eye on time and history, or whatever it is that you are supposed to be doing.”

Sara Lance, Laurel’s younger sister, pushed her long, wavy hair back from her eyes, and glanced at the tombstone before turning her gaze up to Oliver. The pain, which Oliver could already see, suddenly became sharper, more to the front than it had been. She sighed softly, the very seeds of tears starting to well up in the corners of her eyes, and breathed out a soft answer, “We’re taking a brief break. Rip’s MIA, and the others…well, the others thought I needed time to compose myself and get my head on straight, after running into Dahrk several times in the past. And they’re right. I’ve been far too reckless, and absorbed with hate for Dahrk, instead of leading the team the way Rip wants me to.”

Oliver frowned, and opened his arms to embrace Sara, his heart filled with understanding at what he saw, and what Sara had said. “I think they’re right,” he said, finally. “Seeing Dahrk alive and well in the past can’t be easy for you, even knowing that he’s dead and finally put to an end now.” He also knew the darkness that Sara could sometimes be overtaken by, a product of harsh survival, and years of training under Ra’s Al Ghul, and the League of Assassin’s ruthless training methods.

“I _know_ he’s dead, Ollie,” she replied, coming into his arms with a rush, and her arms wrapping tightly about him as she laid her head on his chest. “I know you killed him yourself, for Laurel, for the good of everyone. That doesn’t make seeing him alive and breathing and his pompous ass attitude any easier to take seeing him years and decades ago. It only makes me want to reach down his throat and rip his heart out, then throw it at his dying ass that much worse.”

Oliver let a moment of silence hang in the air for a moment as he held Sara, trying to be comforting to a soul he knew was ravaged with wildly opposing impulses. Finally, he spoke quietly, “I know it does, Sara. I know. I feel the same thing, too, whenever his name is mentioned, or I see a picture of him somewhere. I just want to kill him over and over and over again.” 

He paused, feeling her warmth against him, feeling her heartbeat racing against him as they embraced, before continuing, “But you know as well as I do that Laurel wouldn’t want us thinking this way, or feeling this way. It’s not who Laurel was.”

“No, it’s not,” Sara murmured, looking up at him. “Laurel was a much better person than I’ve ever been or ever will be. She was someone that shouldn’t have had to die, she was making a difference in every way with her life. She was more than the Black Canary, more than Laurel Lance, ADA. She was kind, forgiving, understanding, and a badass all rolled into one. She did far more good as the Black Canary than I ever could have. And she said _I_ should be the White Canary.”

Sara squeezed him tightly, and he hesitantly stroked her hair. He hoped he was being comforting, and that she knew he was trying to be. “Listen,” he said, lifting her dimpled chin up to meet his eyes. “Laurel would want us talking, and laughing. She’d want us remembering the good times, rather than the bad. Let’s go find somewhere to talk, relax, and not let these dark thoughts follow us out of this cemetery, okay?”

Sara didn’t answer, at least not verbally. She nodded softly against his chest, wiped her eyes clean with a determination, and walked along with Oliver back towards his car. Only once did she glance back over her shoulder at Laurel’s grave, and whisper to herself, “I miss you, Sis. I love you. I hope I can make you proud.”

X

“Where’s Oliver?” asked John, as he came down into the Bunker underneath the Palmer Technologies building. He was still glancing around in each corner, since he figured that his friend would be busily beating a punching bag into an early death. He often was, these days.

The blonde woman sitting at the computers turned his way, checking her watch. “He’s probably still out at the graveyard,” she replied softly. “He’s been going there at least once a week lately.”

“Oh, yeah,” John responded, a sad note coming into his voice. He came closer and sat on the end of the table, where he’d disturb the least amount of equipment possible, and crossed his arms. “They had a lot of history together, from what both of them told me, and from what I saw. I think her death hit him, hit all of us, much more than we expected.”

Laurel had been, to John, a good friend, a friendly voice and a shoulder to lean on when he needed it. She’d kept his counsel, and had influenced more than one decision that turned out for the better for him and his family. Like most of the team felt, Laurel was more than a partner, more than a friend. She was _family._ So, feeling that way, thinking that way, John didn’t so much as bat an eye when Oliver had broken his promise, and had killed Damien Dahrk, and much more mercifully than anyone thought he should have. If anyone deserved a harsh death, it’d been Damien Dahrk.

Just the mention of Laurel had set Felicity’s mind to whirling, remembering many of the times they’d talk, laugh, or even cry together. Ironically, considering her past relationship with Oliver, and the one Felicity had with him at the time, despite that, they’d become good, close friends. Family. When Laurel had died, part of Felicity had died with her, she felt. It irrevocably changed things within her. She was still who she was, but she was also different. 

Laurel had been an example, both in compassion and caring, and in being determined, strong and never giving up, or giving up on someone. She had been a rock that Felicity clung to, but never realized she had until Laurel was no longer there to cling to, only her memory. That was an absence felt by everyone who’s lives she’d touched, and Felicity was feeling it very profoundly lately.

After several moments of silence, and thought, Felicity’s blonde head nodded softly. “I agree with you,” she said softly. “It did hit all of us harder than we would have expected. It hit home. It makes you realize that we’re not always as indestructible as we think we are.”

The two friends lapsed into a silence. Felicity busied herself with monitoring the various programs she had going, looking for any sort of activity that would warrant Team Arrow’s attention, but her thoughts were far away. She had mourned, as everyone else had, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to move on with her life completely, not the way she knew Laurel would want her to. With her back to John and the Bunker at large, a large, single tear slowly slid its way down her cheek, as the images in her mind’s eye wouldn’t stop.

X

 _“Hello, you’ve reached Laurel Lance. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you please leave your name and number at the sound of the tone, I’ll return your call as quickly as humanly possible. Thank you,”_ said the message on Laurel’s phone for the millionth time.

Sighing softly, the young blonde woman spoke into the phone after the beep had sounded, “Laurel? This is Kara again. I haven’t heard from you in a really, _really_ long time, and I’m far beyond worried. Please, please, _please_ give me a call the second you get this, so I can stop worrying, okay? Some of the guys and I are coming up your way to visit, and we really want to see you. I’ll talk to you soon, I hope. Bye for now.”

The brunette that stood next to Kara with her arms crossed watched her little sister with concern. She knew that Kara’s friends meant the world to her, especially those that were like family, and this abnormally long absence of word from her friend had Kara really rattled.

“How long has it been since you’ve heard from her, Kara?” asked the woman, her eyes still concerned as they watched Kara fidget as she always did when she was nervous or worried. The woman’s voice was full of concern. She knew simply by the way Kara acted it’d been way _too_ long since there’d been any contact.

Kara was very nearly pulling a couch cushion apart, she was fidgeting with everything so strongly as she looked up at her older sister. “It’s been like seven _months_ since I heard from her. Not a _word_ of any kind since then,” she answered, getting up and pacing the room nervously. “We had started talking at least three times a week, and then suddenly, nothing.”

Alex Danvers took hold of Kara’s shoulders and eased her back down to sit on the couch once more, and took her hand in hers. “She could simply be really busy,” she said, trying to console her sister. “I’m sure she stays extremely busy, being both an ADA for Star City by day, _and_ crime fighting at night as Black Canary. You’ve heard about all the chaos going on up there, and the nuclear scare back in May. That shook everybody up. I’m sure she just has her hands full, and then some.”

The mention of the nuclear scare that had been going on, and that one missile that destroyed Havenrock, Virginia only made her groan that much more. “If Kal and I hadn’t been at the end of the solar system, searching for clues as to where Mon El’s pod had come from, we could have helped. We could have stopped anybody from having to die,” she said softly, barely above a whisper.

Alex leaned forward and took Kara’s shoulders in her hands once more. “Kara, you _can’t_ dump that on yourself. You can’t. You and Clark both had to ride in that ship, because neither of you could possibly hold your breath long enough to do what you had to do, let alone fly past Pluto’s orbit. Mon El was a complete mystery. We didn’t know who he was, or anything. All we knew was that he was in a Kryptonian pod, and he was in a coma. You had to find some answers. It’s not your fault some crazy bastard decided he’d call in his own Judgment Day while you guys were gone.” She lifted Kara’s chin, and met her, eye to eye. “You can’t be everywhere, every minute, every time some nutcase decides they’re going to do something really bad and really stupid.”

“I know, I know,” Kara grumbled, clutching the cushion like a drowning person clutches someone saving them, but she never let go of Alex’s hand. “I can’t be there every time a volcano erupts, or some fault line shifts and sends quakes that destroy billions of dollars worth of buildings and cities, not to mention claims the lives of who knows how many people, either. But I’m here to _protect_ people, protect the Earth. And I wasn’t here. I was out there, chasing answers that could have waited.”

Seconds ticked by, feeling like centuries, silence hanging until Alex finally spoke quietly, “What do you think Laurel would tell you? She told you about different things that she’s had to deal with in Star City, didn’t she? She told you about the mistakes, the missteps and so forth she and her entire team endured, right? All the things that they weren’t able to stop because they simply can’t do _everything, right?”_

There was a silent pause before Alex continued, “They don’t have your powers, your gifts, Kara, but even with them, even _you_ can’t save everyone all the time, every time. Even super powered Kryptonians have their limitations. You’re not a goddess, Kara. You’ll stumble occasionally, just like the rest of us, and you’ll come across instances where you simply can’t solve every situation. No matter how many powers you have.”

Kara pressed her lips together, but simply nodded softly. It wasn’t something she liked to admit, not even to herself, but it was true. It was just hard for her to accept that so many people had died, people she could have saved if she’d been on Earth, instead of searching for answers about her new duckling, Mon El of Daxam.

“Nobody blames you, Kara, not a single soul. Everybody else knows and accepts that you can’t be everywhere and do everything, so why can’t you?” Alex asked, giving Kara’s hand a squeeze.

Before Kara could answer, there was a knock at the door. Alex slid her hand from Kara’s, and went to the door, opening it. Outside it stood James Olsen, and Joseph Swift. Alex stepped back and waved them inside, and shut the door behind them.

The Native looked back and forth between Kara and Alex, and let out a slow breath. “I take it you still can’t get a hold of Laurel?” Joe Swift asked, feeling the down feeling in the air.

Kara shook her head slowly. “No,” she said, straightening up a bit where she had been slouched on the couch. “That settles it, then. We’re just going to have to go to Star City now. I can’t sit by the phone and wait any longer. Something’s wrong, I just know there is. And I’ve put this off for months, when I shouldn’t have.”

All of them knew that Kara had been planning to take a vacation and go visit Laurel and maybe meet some of her friends, but they weren’t expecting her to make this decision right that moment. All of them were concerned, but knew that once Kara made up her mind, there was no changing it, normally.

“Kara,” began James, looking pretty sheepish. “You know I’d love to go, but with having to run the company while Cat’s on her vacation, sabbatical, whatever it might be, I just don’t have the time that I can take off right now. There’s way, way too much going on right now. But if you’re going, keep in touch, let me know what’s up when you find out, okay?”

Kara could hear the concern, and the sincere regret, that James felt in his voice, and nodded softly. “I’ve got _more_ than enough vacation time and sick time coming, so me going won’t be a problem. I’d just rather not go alone.” She turned to Alex, giving her a hopeful look.

Alex sighed softly, and squeezed Kara’s shoulder apologetically. “I’m sorry, Kara, but I can’t go either,” she said quietly. “There’s several aliens that we’re keeping an eye on, and Winn’s been very busy, doing stuff for J’Onn personally, so he’s up to his eyes in work. J’Onn’s still dealing with all this stuff concerning M’gann. And on top of all that, _somebody’s_ got to keep Mon El in line, so he doesn’t do something stupid, so we’re all out, though we all are keeping you in our thoughts. Like James said, let us know something when you find it out.”

Nodding in understanding, but with a somewhat deflated expression, she turned towards Joe, her expression almost pleading. There was no one else she’d even consider taking, and since Joe had become friends with Laurel like the others, he was a logical choice, and the last one available at the moment.

The Native had been keeping track of what was being said, so when Kara turned to him, he shrugged. “I’ve got no problems getting, or taking, the time off,” he answered the silent question. “Besides, it’ll be a nice break from everything going on here. So, I’m up for it, if you want the company.”

Kara squealed and hugged Joe, taking great care not to hug _too_ hard. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed, looking much more relieved than she had earlier. “Would it take long for you to pack? I want to leave as soon as you can, Supergirl Express. I’m already packed.” She held up the travel bag she had already been packing if she couldn’t get an answer from Laurel the last time she called.

Joe thought a second, and then shrugged once more, a light smile forming on his lips. “If you can give me a lift back to my place,” he said jovially, attempting to cheer Kara up a little. “I can be packed in like, I don’t know, fifteen minutes maybe?”

The excitement in Kara’s eyes told Alex and James all they needed to know. Alex grabbed Kara in a tight hug, and pulled back enough to meet her sister’s eyes. “Call us when you find her, and find out anything. Check in with me, please, so _I_ won’t be crazy worrying about _you,_ okay?”

“You bet I will,” said Kara with much more enthusiasm than Alex had heard out of her in days. Kara hugged her back, then hugged James, and looked over at Joe. “You ready, Joe?”

The big man chuckled and nodded as he was already positioning himself to be picked up. In the short time it’d taken all this to go on, Kara had changed into her uniform at super speed, grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, and was ready for him. “Though I feel a bit awkward, being carried around, and flown around, by a girl literally half my size, I’m good. See you guys in a few days.”

The friends all said their good byes for the moment, and Kara and Joe flew out the window, creating several sonic booms along the way. James and Alex watched them as long as they could see Kara’s flying form over the city.

“What do you think has happened, Alex?” asked James. He had an odd feeling creeping up his spine, a feeling he didn’t like much.

For a long time, Alex said nothing, but finally answered slowly, “I don’t know. Whatever it is, I have this gut feeling it’s not going to be good. Kara’s the strongest person I know, not just physically, but emotionally too. Something tells me that strength is going to be put to the test.”

The two simply agreed with each other silently, sharing looks that both understood all too well. Several moments later, they bid their farewells, and each left the apartment, heading in their own direction, each wondering what Kara and Joe would find in Star City.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

Sara ran her fingers over the glass covering a picture of herself and Laurel, at a happier time, when they were both younger, not long before Sara had gone behind Laurel’s back and went on the trip with Oliver. It seemed so long ago, so far away, but yet it also seemed like it was just moments ago that the picture had been taken.

She put the picture back on the small table, and turned around, looking the apartment over. Oliver had kept the rent up on it, and left it exactly as she’d left it. If she closed her eyes a moment, and then opened them again, she could almost believe Laurel would come around the corner with a steaming cup of hot cocoa, with extra marshmallows, just for her, the way she liked it.

Everything in the apartment, the things, the way it was set up, the way it was kept, it all screamed Laurel in every aspect. Once again, Sara fought valiantly to keep the tears at bay. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, because Laurel wouldn’t want her twisting herself to pieces, thinking of what she could have done, should have done, that she should have stayed instead of going with Rip and the others, and any other recriminations she could torture herself with.

She glanced towards the door, where she knew, out in the hallway, Oliver was leaning against the wall, letting her have her time alone in Laurel’s apartment, to relive memories and to sort herself before he intruded on her grief. He had grieved quite strongly, and was _still_ grieving, Sara knew, no matter how hard a face he tried to put on. 

They’d spent hours at Laurel’s favorite little café down on the corner, eating a light meal, drinking sodas, and just talking. They’d spoken of memories, good times, the laughs, and the fun they all used to have. Like Laurel, Sara had also known Oliver and Tommy all her life, they’d all been friends, and done all the sorts of things that young friends often do, even when you’re the youngest in the bunch.

Despite herself, she smiled at a particular memory they’d talked about at the café, a time when they’d all been a little wilder. Oliver’s parents had been gone on some trip or another, and that left Oliver and Thea alone. Since Thea was so young, she’d gone to bed, and Sara, Laurel, and Tommy had joined Oliver on one of their many mischievous hijinks. Looking back, she couldn’t believe she’d ever been that silly, but that feeling came back hard and strong just standing near where she knew Laurel sat every night, curled up in a chair, and went over case files, making notes, and figuring out defenses, or prosecutions, depending.

Oliver and Tommy had gotten the bright idea to pick the lock on Oliver’s parents’ liquor cabinet and declared they were going to get drunk. She’d never been sure if they’d been serious, or if it was some sort of scheme where they’d dare Laurel and Sara to get drunk and they’d back down, or if actually getting drunk had the been the plan the entire time. Either way, it’d turned out embarrassing, mortifying, but ultimately a hilarious memory to look back on.

The boys had cooked up this scheme where before the night was over, Laurel and Oliver would end up making out. They’d only weeks before told each other how they felt about one another, but they hadn’t really done much more than peck each other briefly. It was amazing that they got that far, considering that even though Laurel and Sara’s father, Quentin, liked Oliver, he had gone through the roof when he heard that Laurel was in love with the young, wild, unpredictable billionaire playboy that Oliver had been at the time. So, with the typical fatherly hassling, and of course the implied threat of jail time if he did anything remotely untoward with Laurel, they’d been snatching every moment they could, every time they could, as far out of Quentin’s knowledge as possible.

Sara had always thought Tommy was cute, and she knew Tommy had been giving her the eye for months at that time. It was all pretty harmless, after all they were all under eighteen at the time. Even with all the heavy flirting on both sides, Sara had no illusions that Tommy would ever fall in love with her, especially with him being cut from the same cloth Oliver was, rich, suave, fickle playboy. 

For her own part, Sara was old enough that she was definitely interested, since she was a couple of years younger than the others, but wasn’t ready to really start a real relationship, let alone fall in love with anyone. But, she figured, what could a little innocent making out hurt? It wasn’t like Tommy was repulsive, right? It’d be a drunken night of laughing, flirting, kissing, and maybe even a little groping, and then they’d pass out and laugh about it all the next day. Nothing serious, just a bunch of teenagers having fun.

A couple of hours after the liquor had been liberated from the cabinet, they were all pretty sloshed, and giggling like hyenas. Laurel had tried to stand up, falling back to her backside on the expensive carpet twice before finally finding her feet, and leaning down in each of the others’ faces, still giggling, saying, “Hey, let’s play Lights Out.”

Sara shook her head at the memory as she picked up a picture of the four of them Laurel kept in the little divider between the living room, and the kitchen, running her fingers over Laurel’s face with a light touch. Lights Out was a game the local kids played, usually while drinking. It consisted of everybody sitting beside either the person they were dating, or if everyone was single, they’d sit in random places, and when someone turned out the lights, they’d all reach for their boyfriend or girlfriend, or just someone in general, and make out until whoever cut the lights out decided it was time to turn them back on. The game had often resulted in some pretty ridiculous and funny tonsil hockey, often embarrassing, but funny in the end because it was all a gag, after all.

Even though most people had a particular person in mind to grab when the lights went out, drunken teenagers in the dark weren’t always quite as agile and adroit as they thought they were. Sometimes, they’d actually connect with who they intended, many times it’d be a total surprise who would be on the other end of the kiss, especially if they’d been expecting someone, and they found out people had shifted in the dark and who you wanted wasn’t always who you managed to grab. It was more fun with a lot of people, but it could be entertaining with even a few, like they were that night.

So, there they had sat in Oliver’s huge living room, on chairs and the couch, all getting ready to grab that person they had their eye on. The further you sat away from the person, such as across the room, could add to the fun, and the pure randomness and uncertainty of the situation. In most cases, in games among friends, if you accidentally kissed someone else’s boyfriend or girlfriend, it was more something that was laughed at, maybe some mild embarrassment about, but rarely did it turn into a nasty confrontation. You were drunk, plunged from light into sudden darkness, and have to find the person across the room, while trying not to fall over furniture and other people. It was a recipe for some blushing, a lot of laughing, and entertaining stories to tell your friends that hadn’t been able to be there about it the following Monday in school.

Laurel had slapped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Almost immediately, the sounds of scuffling feet could be heard in the darkness. There was a crash as something was knocked off a table and broken, and the sounds of heavy, drunken kissing started. Sara had been sure that Oliver and Laurel had found each other, and she kept reaching out, swiping her hand, trying to grab Tommy’s arm.

Right then, there was a loud thud, and Sara tripped over flailing legs and ended up straddling a prone body. Instantly, with a grin that couldn’t be seen in the dark, she darted out to kiss the lips of the helpless make out partner she held between her squeezing knees and thighs. She fully planned on being one still lip locked when the lights went back on. She and Laurel had a friendly sort of rivalry in that way, who could kiss longer, who could last longer at any number of activities, both amorous, and things in general, like races, endurance contests, and so on.

Tommy’s lips were a lot softer than she expected, but that didn’t bother her. He seemed to be flailing quite a bit, probably the result of her suddenly pinning him to the floor. She was aggressive in the kiss, because she wanted it to be a kiss he would remember for a long time, and maybe he might even want to try it again. Maybe she’d even let him, if the mood was right.

A muffled cry made its way from Tommy’s lips into her mouth, and her tongue teased over his, and then suddenly, he wasn’t as rigid anymore. _Finally,_ she thought to herself at that time. _He’s finally relaxed, and is enjoying it. Or at the very least, not fighting it!_

It felt like Tommy wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, or even with his lips. He just seemed to sink into the carpet, though he’d stopped flailing his arms and legs, and trying to squirm back from her. Maybe he thought he was kissing Laurel, she didn’t know, and right then, she didn’t care. She just was determined to blow his socks off, and make sure his ears were smoking when she finally pulled back from his lips.

Muffled moans, smacking and half smothered laughing could be heard all around her, and in her drunken haze, she just took that as inspiration to kiss deeper, and even slip some tongue action in on the deal. Tommy didn’t try to push her off or anything, but he was still oddly unresponsive with regards to kissing back, other than a somewhat feeble movement of his mouth.

 _Either he’s all talk and can’t kiss for shit, or he’s a lot more drunk than we all thought!_ ran through her mind as she kept the lip lock going strong on the hapless rich kid. Her lips wrapped around the tip of his tongue when it moved towards her mouth, and she teasingly flicked it with her own, and sucked lightly at it. She was hoping that if she kept laying it on heavy, he’d eventually let go and let her have it, give her a kiss that lived up to his reputation.

Suddenly, her eyes filled with both light, and spots, as Laurel had fumbled behind her and turned the lights on. Just as they came back on, she and Oliver fell into the large chair she’d been sitting in earlier and were still going strong, kissing deeply. She’d managed to catch sight of that out of the corner of her eye as she cracked them a fraction. Then she broke the kiss just long enough to look at Tommy, intending on round two catching him as unaware as round one had seemed to.

As her lips pulled back and her eyes moved back towards Tommy’s face, a loud, _feminine_ scream split the air right in front of her. Under her, Thea, dressed in a long night tee shirt and ankle socks, was laying pinned under her, gripping the carpet, wide eyed, and screamed. “Holy shit, let me _breathe!”_ Thea screamed, trying desperately to catch her breath, looking up at Sara as if she’d been holding her under water at the beach or something.

The room erupted in laughter as Laurel and Oliver stopped kissing at the sound of the scream, and had turned their slow, drunken gaze to the source. Behind her, Tommy was laughing, his arm still around the bust of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom that Oliver’s father kept next to the bookshelves in the room. The statue’s face was still wet where Tommy had been kissing her for all he was worth, and was mumbling, “No wonder Sara was so stone faced. Stone faced…get it?” Then he dissolved into another fit of laughter, falling backwards over the ottoman near the couch, laughing even harder.

Sara and Thea had both looked around at everyone laughing, then at each other, and they had started laughing as well, though Thea’s laughter seemed more strained. That just made everyone else laugh even harder. The brilliant shade of scarlet she’d turned didn’t help any, especially when Sara’s face was as red as Thea’s.

Sara’s wistful smile grew slightly as she remembered how mortified Thea had seemed at first, as she had quickly gotten up off the younger girl, and helped her to her feet. In an attempt to make Thea actually laugh, instead of the imitation she’d been doing, and to dispel her own embarrassment, she had dropped to a knee, grabbed Thea’s hand with one hand, and threw the other heavily over her heart, exclaiming, “Oh, Thea, Thea, who’s light is like the sun, will you marry me, such a silly, stricken fool drunk from your kiss?” 

Before she’d managed to get it all out, she’d fallen backwards, giggling like mad, and even Thea had shook her head and laughed heartily. “I don’t think it’s my kiss you’re drunk from,” Thea had quipped, finally letting the laughter out. “But you know, it’s sad. I’ve been trying to get Will Carver to kiss me all month, and he finally did. And the best kiss I’ve had all year has been from my brother’s girlfriend’s sister!”

All of them had laughed for what seemed like hours, until Thea had finally gone back to bed, though she’d never made it to the kitchen to get the water she’d actually gotten up for. She’d taken the teasing very good naturedly, though. For weeks after that, she and Thea would run into each other during school, and very animatedly and with _very_ heavy overacting, fly into each other’s arms, making smoochy noises, and professing very loudly their undying love for each other in the hallways, which always erupted in uncontrollable fits of laughter for all of them.

Sara shook her head again, and carefully put the picture back on the table where it’d been. It was such a stupid, silly memory, but it was a silly time where she and her sister had had a wonderful time. Laurel got in on the act many times, egging them on, and leaving school later with her arm around Sara’s shoulders, talking and laughing. Every time Sara was having a bad day, Laurel would say, “Well, if your day is so bad, I can always call Thea and have her come kiss your troubles away.”

What had surprised Sara at the time was that though she’d been mortified and was glad it’d become a big joke, it hadn’t been so bad kissing a girl, nothing like she always thought it’d be. Of course, she wouldn’t find out until several years later that she was actually bi until after Nyssa had found her and took her in with the League of Assassins. But after that, she’d thought back many times, and wondered if that accidental kiss had been the first road sign she’d passed that indicated what was always inside her.

Sara knew that, to anybody else, the memories she was experiencing wouldn’t really make a lot of sense, but a lot of the things she and Laurel did in their younger days didn’t really make a lot of sense, and had been funny as hell. For every experience like that they’d shared, though, there’d been ten experiences where Laurel had been not only a true sister to her, but a true friend as well. They’d talked, laughed, cried and so much more with each other all their lives.

The sense of loss she felt at Laurel’s passing was suddenly very sharp, pointed, and harsh. It was amazing how silly, stupid memories could evoke such strong feelings, and such a sensation of missing a loved one as it was right that moment. A fresh round of tears threatened to slowly seep from her eyes as everywhere she looked she saw Laurel’s face, pictures of them and friends, of them together, of many things that the first thought that came to her mind upon seeing it was Laurel. The apartment even smelled like her, after she’d freshly showered, and had gotten ready for a date, or for work. It was a smell like mom’s fresh baked pie, a smell that was in your memory forever.

Sara walked back into Laurel’s bedroom, and sat down on her bed. Burying her face in her hands, the conversation she’d had with Laurel when she was struggling with whether or not to go with Rip and the others, when Rip had first recruited them, came rushing back. The conversation had happened in the Bunker, of course, while they trained together, but the tank top and jogging pants she’d been wearing that night were hanging on the closet door.

It’d been Laurel who had told her that she had to follow her heart, and what she felt to be right. Sara had told her that since she was back, she wouldn’t feel right about taking the mantle of the Black Canary back up, after Laurel had suggested it, it was Laurel’s calling then. She had felt lost, and told Laurel that she could never do the things as the Canary that Laurel had been doing, that she could never make that kind of difference, do that kind of, and as much, good as what Laurel had been doing.

Laurel had hugged her and told her that she was silly for thinking that way. She’d told her that she was capable of doing the kind of things that Laurel herself had been doing, that it’d been Sara who had originally lit her way down the path of wearing the black.

“You’ve literally got a second chance, Sara,” she’d said while still holding her in a sisterly embrace near the heavy bag. “You’ve come back from the dead, the same Sara that left, but a new Sara as well. You say you can’t be the Black Canary, it’s not you anymore. Then don’t be the Black Canary. Be the White Canary, a symbol of rebirth, of hope, of the good I know is in there, even if you don’t know it yourself.”

And that is where it had started, the first steps on the path that she now trod. Despite her own lost feelings, and sense of helplessness, Laurel had given her a strong hand to hold onto, a guiding nudge on the right path, in the right direction. Every day before, and especially since, she learned of Laurel’s death, she tried to embody what Laurel had told her that she could. She had tried to make her big sister proud of her, the way she was proud of Laurel.

Sara felt, rather than heard, the presence behind her. Before she even turned around, a quiet voice she knew so well half whispered to her, “Hey, are you doing okay?”

Sara turned towards Oliver, who was reaching a hand out for her shoulder, but had paused, waiting for her to turn, and nodded softly. “Yeah,” she said, as her voice cracked a little. “Let’s go somewhere else, anywhere else. I can still feel her here, Ollie. It’s like she’s sitting right beside me, even now. And it hurts like hell because she’s not, and I can’t touch her, hug her like I want to right now.”

Oliver nodded softly, not saying anything. He understood completely what she meant, what she was feeling. He hadn’t had the heart to step foot back in the apartment since he’d secured it for an indefinite time after Laurel had been laid to rest.

When Sara stood, he wrapped an arm around her, and walked out of the apartment with her, her head on his shoulder, her arms around him. He paused long enough to lock the door, and then they went down the elevator, leaving the building behind them.

X

The wind whipped through Joe’s hair as he and Kara flew rapidly through the brightly lit night of Star City. The buildings, the cars, the people, all of it was passing by too quickly for Joe to focus on any of it, though Kara was slowing somewhat as she seemed to be nearing her destination.

“Are you sure you know where this place is?” he asked, regarding the young Kryptonian who carried him effortlessly as she flew through the air like a red and blue phoenix. The rush of the wind was loud, but he knew Kara would hear him anyway.

Kara smiled and nodded, slowing even more, and easing down into a descent. “Oh, yeah,” she said with a soft laugh. “Laurel made sure to give me directions, detailed ones. And since it’s late, and she’s not in her apartment, I figure she’s either here, or out on the streets.”

“I haven’t seen anything that looked like a commotion or anything on the way in,” Joe mused, looking back down as they suddenly entered a tunnel, and took a hard right, flying rapidly along a series of ever switching tunnels until it opened into a large chamber.

Supergirl nodded as they touched down on the concrete floor of the chamber. Ahead, through an opening, they could see green and silver, lit with subdued, but sufficient lighting, that only brought the colors to life. “I didn’t hear anything, either, and nothing on the local police radio chatter, so I’m guessing she’s most likely here at this hour.”

She frowned as she tilted her head slightly, looking towards the entryway into the next chamber. Joe didn’t see or hear anything, but apparently Kara did. He started to ask her what was up, but she had started walking, though she did motion for him to stay slightly behind her. He fell into step as she indicated, and rounded the corner with her.

Ahead, they both could see a raised dais with a _lot_ of computer systems on tables there. Around the room were glass display cases, each one inhabited by a uniform of some sort. Joe guessed this must be where Team Arrow kept their uniforms when they weren’t in the field. Some were missing, but one was conspicuously in it’s case. The uniform of the Black Canary.

Now, Joe could hear what Kara was hearing, the rapid tapping of keys on a computer keyboard. He looked towards the computers, and could barely see the top of a blonde woman’s head. Her golden hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and the various beeps, clicks, and so forth blended together in his ears.

“Laurel?” called out Kara, her smile growing as she moved quickly across the floor and up the ramp to the dais. “Hey, what’s going on? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for—” She stopped mid sentence as the blonde jumped up from her seat, spinning, and nearly fell backwards over the computer bank she had been seated at.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed the blonde, as she tried to catch her glasses, which were in the act of falling off her face from the force of her startled jump. Her eyes widened at the sight of the unexpected visitors. “Wh-who are _you?”_ she stammered, still trying to process the presence of the strangers in the Bunker.

Joe’s eyebrows shot straight up as the blonde asked the question, and looked incredulously between the blonde, and Kara. “Um, Lady, you’re kidding, right?” he asked, pointing at the stylized glyph on Kara’s chest that closely resembled an “S.”

“Overwatch, what the hell is going on? Are you all right? Have you been compromised?” came the voice of Oliver over the earpiece the blonde was wearing. He had heard Felicity Smoak’s startled outburst, and it hadn’t sounded pleasant to Oliver’s ears.

Felicity’s eyes moved from the Native to the Kryptonian, and back again several times before her eyes fixated on the symbol on the woman’s chest. She could hear Oliver demanding answers in her ear, but her vocal chords were temporarily paralyzed with surprise. She heard Oliver say something about taking cover, they were on their way in, and immediately John Diggle’s voice came across also, saying he was coming in from the north entrance.

Swallowing, Felicity positioned her glasses back properly on her face once more, and cleared her throat. “Oh…yeah. I, uh, um…well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting…well, I didn’t know you’d actually be _coming_ anytime soon. I mean, she said you might be coming sometime, but not that you were like _coming_ coming….and uh, well, that just came out all kinds of wrong. What I mean to say is that she didn’t mention that you’d be…you know… _here_ anytime in the near future. Though at the time it was said, this wouldn’t be the near future, it’d be quite a while in the future, but I’d forgotten all about it until you just popped up behind me.”

Kara blinked a couple of times, and glanced over at Joe, who shrugged his shoulders, apparently clueless. The expression of realization dawning graced Kara’s features, and she smiled winningly and laughed briefly. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You _have_ to be—”

Before she could complete her sentence, two voices rang out from opposite ends of the room, as one, “Don’t move or it’ll be your last!” The Girl of Steel, and Joe, both looked to each side of the room to see a dishwater blonde woman, drawing what looked like two Escrima sticks from her jacket, a rather handsome man with a bow and arrow drawn and trained on her, and on the other side a large black man with twin 9mm’s directed at her.

Kara glanced at each of the new arrivals, then to Felicity, and back towards Oliver once more. “It’s okay, really. I can ex—” she began, but was cut off as two arrows came whizzing lightning fast towards her and Joe on one side, and a succession of six bullets total hurtled towards them from the other side.

Without thought, Kara reacted, snatching both arrows out of the air with one hand, and catching all six bullets in the other hand before any of the projectiles could strike either her or Joe. While this was going on, the newly arrived woman leaped over equipment, coming at her hard and fast with the two weapons.

Supergirl reacted instinctively, dropping the arrows and the bullets like chicken feed, and blew a quick gust at the advancing woman, the force of the super breath sending her flying back over the equipment and onto the practice mats in the corner of the room.

Oliver and John were recovering from their shock and setting up a second volley, still not quite believing their eyes as to what they’d seen. Sara rolled to her feet and shook her head, trying to clear the spots from her eyes. None of them had ever witnessed anything like that before, at least not personally.

Before another volley could be fired, Felicity yelled loudly, throwing her hands up. “Guys, guys, _guys!”_ she exclaimed, looking back and forth between Oliver, John and Sara. “Can we cut the John Woo movie fight scene a second, please?”

Dumbfounded, the three lowered their respective weapons, trading glances with each other, and at the two strangers, Felicity and back. They were all still cautious, but they were ready to listen to Felicity.

Felicity collected herself, and walked closer to the woman in the red cape, then glanced at her friends. “I know you guys don’t get much downtime, but surely you must have heard the stories Laurel told when she came back from National City last year,” she said, giving them all a withering stare. “Or if you don’t remember the stories, _surely_ you recognize the lady’s outfit, right? Red cape, red boots and skirt, blue top, big assed ‘S’ on her chest? I mean, you guys do watch TV or read the paper _sometime,_ don’t you?”

Nobody seemed inclined to talk, so Felicity pressed forward, “These are Laurel’s friends from National City. This is Supergirl, and since the nice looking man behind her only fits one description, I’d have to guess he’s Joe Swift, the guy that was saving people left and right and ditching any attempt at identification or media attention. Am I right?” She turned to regard Kara and Joe, hands palm up.

“Superman’s cousin that’s been in the news the past couple of years?” asked John slowly, putting his guns away as if he was in a daze. He tried to blink, but couldn’t he was staring at their visitor so intently.

“You’d be right, Miss,” replied Joe, stepping out from behind Kara, since the ballistics had seemed to have halted for the moment. “And given the descriptions that Laurel gave us, I’d have to say you’re Felicity Smoak, computer genius, and heartbeat of Team Arrow?” His words may have sounded somewhat flippant on the surface, but it was clear from his face that wasn’t his intention.

Oliver’s face registered recognition once he got a good look at Kara, and he nodded slowly, but his eyes narrowed. “That’s all well and good,” he said, his voice taking on that growling rasp that it did when he was in all business mode, his Green Arrow voice, as Felicity called it. “But what are you doing here, and more importantly, how the hell did you get in here, or even know where this place was, or that it existed?”

Sara was uncharacteristically quiet where something concerning Laurel was in play, and she stood off to the side, listening intently, and keeping her eyes on the woman that had swatted her across the room without ever raising a hand. Like the others, she’d heard of Supergirl before, but she’d never expected to actually _meet_ her.

“Oh, that’s easy enough to explain,” gushed Kara, thrilled to be meeting the people she’d heard and read so much about, both in the news, and from Laurel’s first hand accounts. “Laurel told us where the place was…very nice headquarters, by the way, I love it…and we flew in. We’re here because she invited us to come, if we were ever up this way.”

The room was unusually quiet for a moment, and Kara glanced at Joe, who simply shrugged. He had no idea what was going on, either. Unsure of what else to do, Kara continued, “Oh, and please, call me Kara. All my close friends that really know me do. Out in public, of course, I’m Supergirl, but you get the idea.”

Once again, there was silence. “So, anyway, we haven’t heard from Laurel in _ages,_ literally months. We would have come to check on her a lot sooner, but things have been crazy in National City, and we’re just now getting to where we can deal with personal things. So, we’re just glad to finally be here.” She looked around a moment, and focused her eyes intently for a moment, using her x ray vision to peer through the surrounding walls, hoping she didn’t accidentally peek into a bathroom or something.

“So, where is Laurel, anyway? We’ve been _really_ worried about her, and we’ll feel a whole lot better once we see her and see she’s really okay,” finished Kara, still feeling the odd silence growing thicker by the moment.

Sara stared at Kara in silence for a long moment, and everyone was silent. Finally, she collapsed her weapons, tucked them into her jacket, turned, and walked back out the way she’d come in.

After she disappeared, Kara frowned, and glanced around at everyone else. “What did I say?” she asked, confused. “We’re sorry if we intruded or something, we really just wanted to make sure Laurel was okay.”

The color drained from Felicity’s face as she cleared her throat, her eyes moving from Oliver to John and back before fixing on her. “Oh, my God,” she breathed softly. “You don’t know, do you? Nobody’s told you, have they?"

A cold chill was creeping up Kara’s back rapidly, and her brows furrowed over her delicate nose. “Know what?” she asked, her voice a bit higher pitched than she intended. “Told us what? What’s going on? Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

The three members of Team Arrow felt the confused gaze that the Kryptonian gave each of them. They could each see the horror rising on her face, in her eyes, and the supreme effort she was exerting to fight it down with her endless hope and optimism.

Finally, Oliver broke the silence. “Laurel’s dead.”


	3. Chapter 3

**AN** \- I hope you’ll have enjoyed reading this story. I apologize for how brief it is, but there’s only so long you can stretch out a bunch of friends remembering a loved one. Still, with any luck, it was something you liked, and you’ll continue to read my works. I write in many different genres, so if you like my stuff, keep an eye out for my name. As always, thank you very much for reading, and please feel free to comment or review the work as you feel. Through your feedback, I can craft and write better stories!

 

**Chapter 3**

 

Oliver’s words still rung in the air, carrying the crushing weight of finality in them. Kara and Joe both stood stupefied for a moment, unable to do much more than stare at the others, with their jaws agape, blinking and trying to process those two tiny words.

“She’s _what?”_ asked Kara in a dumbfounded squeak, when she finally regained her voice. Suddenly, all her vaunted Kryptonian strength seemed to fizzle away like so much steam coming from a teapot boiling over. Her legs felt weak, and she actually stumbled in place a moment, feeling as if the very wind had been knocked out of her lungs.

Joe automatically moved to catch her, still feeling as if everything was moving in slow motion. He couldn’t have heard Oliver correctly. There was no way he could reconcile that thought in his mind. His ears had to be playing tricks on him. If shock had been a person instead of a sensation, it seemed it was settling in very comfortably, and rapidly, and Joe could feel that iciness creeping all along his body like a slow moving wind carrying the freezing temperatures over water during winter.

Felicity had reached out and caught her arm, and Kara could see the sadness and devastation in the young woman’s eyes. Felicity’s voice was quiet as she nodded softly, reaffirming Oliver’s rather blunt statement. “Laurel’s dead, Supergirl…Kara…what do you prefer I call you? You said your close friends called you Kara, but we’re just now meeting you, but you said we could call you…” The computer genius trailed off as she realized she was rambling. The pain of Laurel’s passing was still a very strong, very real specter in the room.

Joe’s eyes fell to the floor, staying silent. His mind raced, trying to figure out the when’s and why’s and such, but his silence was out of respect for someone he admired and respected, especially in the presence of those who knew her infinitely better than he himself did.

“You can call me Kara,” answered the Kryptonian softly. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she finally raised her eyes again, looking at Oliver, John, and Felicity slowly, from one to the other. “How? When?” she asked, a lump forming in her throat, of no one in particular.

A fresh tear rolled down Felicity’s cheek as she wheeled them both out a chair to sit in. “Back in early April,” answered Felicity, wiping her eye briefly with a tissue. Though she and the others knew that it wasn’t intentional by their two visitors, their presence was opening old wounds once more.

“She was killed by a brutal, cold, calculating lunatic named Damien Dahrk,” finished Oliver, his voice still rough and growling, but his growl wasn’t directed at Kara and Joe this time. “A former League of Assassins member who’d expanded his already dangerous repertoire with the addition of magic. He ran an organization called HIVE.” His voice went even quieter as he regarded the two visitors for a moment. “He delivered the blow that eventually killed her later, in the hospital, in cold blood, right in front of me, with my own arrow, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.”

The young Kryptonian nodded softly, staring down at the ground. She drew her crimson cape around her, as if she were chilled, but it did no good against the chill she felt inside. “Laurel and I talked, a _lot,_ after she returned back here,” she said, her voice shaking just a tiny bit, but enough that even Terran ears could register it. “She talked about this Dahrk guy a bit, when we’d talk about…you know…what we all do. I knew from what little she said that he was really dangerous, but I had no idea just _how_ dangerous, apparently. She didn’t sound too worried, though. She seemed like she thought you guys could handle him well enough that you didn’t need someone like me coming to give you a hand. I even asked a couple of times, but she said it was nothing to worry about, and if it came down to needing backup, I’d be one of the first she’d call.”

“That’s just how Laurel was,” John finally spoke up, as he moved to lean against a column. “She could be hesitant about asking for help sometimes, which isn’t something any of us do well. Even though she’d ask for help, she wouldn’t ask for it unless she felt like it was really and truly _needed._ Laurel was the kind that put everyone else ahead of herself, no matter what she thought it might cost her. She put herself between every one of us and danger more than once.”

Kara glanced up, looking back towards the way she and Joe had come in. She’d heard what John had said, and both of them had murmured their agreement. As she did so, the reason her attention had been caught stepped into view. The others most likely didn’t hear it, but they all seemed accustomed to it.

As Sara came into view, the sound of the elevator opening caught everyone’s attention, and Thea’s gait slowed as she noticed unfamiliar faces in the Bunker. The younger Queen glanced at her brother, Felicity, John, and Sara before looking towards Kara and Joe once more. “Um, I didn’t know we were having guests?” she finally asked. It was obvious she wasn’t very sure of what was going on, or the two new people who had found their way into the base of operations.

“Come on in, Speedy,” said Oliver quietly, gesturing to her. He then nodded towards the two strangers, and let out a light breath, focusing himself. “These are friends of Laurel’s from National City that she met during her deposition there last year.”

Felicity glanced at everyone, feeling particularly fidgety, and added, “They just found out about Laurel…what happened, I mean. They didn’t know.”

Sara had leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, and though she didn’t move, her voice seemed oddly animated, as if it moved with a life of its own. “Laurel never, ever, backed down, not even if she was clearly outmatched. She would keep getting up and going right back against a threat.” She paused, and everyone could see the pain in her eyes, hear it in her voice. “My sister was tough, in all the ways that mattered. Laurel never gave up, she never gave in, and she never gave up on _anyone._ Not even me. She was a strong person inside, because she knew the kind of person she was, and the kind of person she should be. Laurel wasn’t just some vigilante in a mask and leather. She was a hero. A _hero._ I think if you know anything about her at all, you know that much, at least.”

Silence lingered in the air for a long time, a pregnant silence that filled the air to overflowing, the pure vacuum of no sound at all, except breathing. Finally, unable to take it any longer, Thea finally spoke, “I wish meeting you both came under better circumstances. I’m just sorry that this is how you had to find out about what happened.”

The pair from National City both nodded softly, and Kara felt very much like she’d been hit in the chest by a Kryptonite warhead. She whispered softly, “It happened in early April, just a couple of days after the last time I spoke with her, then. Her murder, the launching of the missiles, the destruction of Havenrock, it all happened while Kal and I were outside the solar system, looking for clues as to how a Kryptonian pod found its way here, and who the person inside it was.”

Kara’s voice had lost volume, until it was barely a strained whisper. Thea glanced at everyone else, and moved closer, hesitantly laying a hand on her shoulder. She squatted down, and found Kara’s eyes with her own. “Laurel would be the first to tell you that you might very well be Supergirl, but even you can’t be everywhere at once, and not even everywhere you’re needed at the same time. This isn’t on you, either of you,” she said, as she tried to reassure the Kryptonian.

“No, it isn’t, and Thea’s right. Laurel would be the very first person to tell you that,” chimed in Sara. She also came closer, and laid her hand on Kara’s other shoulder. “Laurel was your friend, and if you earned Laurel’s friendship, then you accomplished quite a bit. I should know. I’m Laurel’s younger sister, Sara. For what it’s worth, it’s good to meet you.”

Joe returned the nod that both Thea and Sara had given him. He kept quiet, as was his way, but he didn’t think it was any mystery to any of the people around him that he considered Laurel a friend as well, and he hoped she did the same. “I was honored to know Laurel, even briefly. I have a lot of respect for that lady. Laurel told us that she considered you guys her family. I feel blessed just to have known her, and to have shared the little time I shared with her.”

“I know we didn’t know Laurel very well, really. Our reasons to grieve aren’t nearly as deep or meaningful as yours all are. For what it’s worth, we considered her family, as well, even if we were little more than strangers. I don’t know about what Laurel felt, but I felt, _we_ felt, close to her, as if she were a long lost sister that we finally got to meet, or something like that,” said Kara, glancing up at Joe, who nodded his agreement. “It was a new relationship, but it grew, and grew fast, at least for Joe, my sister, my friends and myself.”

The Girl of Steel took a deep breath, and added, “I’m glad to meet you all, and I’m so very sorry for your loss. I know only a bare sliver of the pain you all must be feeling.”

Oliver extended his hand to Joe, and then to Kara, fixing them each with an intense, but understanding gaze. “It’s enough for us that Laurel considered you both friends,” he said quietly, then met each of their gazes more intensely. “And for her to tell us that she considered you family is even better for us.”

“We heard quite a bit about all of you,” Felicity finally spoke, pushing her glasses back up after cleaning them where tears had tracked over the lenses. “She remembered all of you, and her time with you, fondly. Well, fondly except for the bad stuff you all had to deal with at the time.”

John stood from where he’d been leaning, and loosely folded his arms. “She wanted us all to know you guys like she knew you,” he said, rubbing his chin with a light touch. “Laurel was always excited to bring one group of friends to meet another group of friends, and everyone becoming friends afterwards. Her friendship wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to earn, but once you had it, it was yours.”

“You guys weren’t _just_ friends to her, but like you said, family. Family was very important to Laurel,” Thea interjected, feeling the odd feeling one has when they first start speaking to strangers, but also feeling that sensation that’s usually tickling the back of your consciousness when acquaintance starts paving the way towards what may become friendship, and afterwards, even family. A look at the others’ faces told Thea that they all just might be feeling the same thing.

Sara glanced at Oliver, then John, Felicity and Thea. Her lips lifted ever so slightly in what passed for a smile those days, and said, “If Laurel were here, I think she’d want us all to have a couple of drinks, tell stories of good times, share our memories with each other, and open ourselves up to each other. She’d want us to remember her the way she lived, rather than when, why or how she died. She’d tell us that as long as we remember her, think of her, and love her, she’ll always be alive, and with us.”

Everyone agreed, voicing that agreement firmly, as they talked and learned a little more about each other. Finally, they decided to do exactly what Laurel would want, so they got themselves together, changed into normal everyday clothes, and made their way back to the loft that Oliver and Felicity had shared not so long ago.

X

The group laughed and talked for hours, almost like an Irish wake, instead of the usually somber, brooding sort of atmosphere that mourning often brought along with the memories. By the time they’d all started on their fourth drink, they were all starting to settle down, and come to the reason they’d gathered in the loft: to remember Laurel, and to share those memories with the others, so that they became a part of all of them, so that each could know how the others knew and remembered their friend.

With Kara now dressed like any other person you’d see on the street, and like the reporter she was in her “daytime” job, it was like the difference between night and day for the group. 

Thea shook her head and looked at Kara again, sipping from her drink. “I just can’t get over it,” she said, the smile she wore was contagious, as everyone seemed to be mirroring it. 

Kara looked down at herself, checking to see if maybe she’d forgotten to button a button on her top, or she’d spilled something on herself. “Can’t get over what, Thea?” she asked, a little confused, and a little apprehensive as well.

“You!” Thea exclaimed, laughing now that she’d blurted that out. “When you’re wearing your Supergirl clothes, you’re like an entirely different person. I just can’t believe that putting on a pair of glasses makes _that_ much of a difference. I doubt anyone would even think that you were Supergirl, and all because of a pair of glasses?”

The others laughed, and Oliver smiled lightly. “It’s not just the glasses, Speedy,” he said lightly, glancing at Kara before looking at her once more. “It’s a very subtle disguise, and I don’t mean just the glasses. When she’s not wearing her suit, she wears the glasses, yes, but she changes the way she stands, the way she walks, and she changes aspects of her outward personality.” 

He paused long enough to finish his drink and start pouring another. “For example,” he continued, “as Supergirl, she stands tall, she’s confident, willful, and radiates an aura of being able to handle pretty much anything. As Kara, she’s still confident, but she stands more relaxed, and she seems much more like a girl next door than the alien superhero flying around the city, squashing crime. The glasses are just one tiny component of a very subtle, but very complex, disguise.”

Felicity almost choked on her drink, as she started laughing in the middle of swallowing. “Think of it like this,” she told Thea, giving Kara a smile as she did so. “When she’s Kara, she’s a bit like me, only nowhere near as—”

“Quirky,” interjected Sara with a laugh, and then winked at Felicity. “Quirky but still adorable.”

Felicity actually laughed and agreed, “Okay, yeah, I’ll go with that. She’s not quite as quirky as me. But when she’s Supergirl, she’s kind of like Oliver. If Oliver were a Saturday morning cartoon character. You know, heroic, sunny, and very solid values.”

“Hey,” laughed Oliver, taking a healthy drink of his cocktail. “What are you trying to say, Felicity? That I’m not heroic or have bad ways or something?” He knew what Felicity meant, but he couldn’t resist giving her a little bit of a hard time about it.

“No, not at all,” Felicity said, smiling ever so sweetly. “I’m saying that she’s heroic, sunny, etc, without being such a crabby puss. She’s a lot like you, only kid and family friendly. You know, ‘truth, justice and the American way,’ instead of grouchy, brooding and growly scowly.”

That got a laugh out of everyone, and once more, the glasses were filled. John held his glass in both hands, and regarded everyone at the table before speaking, “Since we’re here, together, friends and family, remembering Laurel, I propose a toast.”

The large man raised his glass, and paused only a moment. “To Laurel Lance, one of the kindest and most genuine people I’ve ever known. Friend, sister, family to all.” The others confirmed the toast, and after glasses clinked together, they all took a drink of their respective drinks.

The friends all looked at one another for a long moment, all of them having the same thing in mind, but none of them exactly sure of how to proceed. Finally, it was Felicity that finally spoke first.

She cleared her throat, and looked around the table at everyone. “Everyone used to say something particular about Laurel,” she began. She could feel her eyes welling up, but she pressed on. “They always said, ‘Laurel Lance…always trying to save the world.’ They said it with good reason.

“But it wasn’t just the world that Laurel tried to save,” she continued, though she felt her hands shaking a little. “She tried to save all of us, she _did_ save all of us, more than she ever really knew.”

The air had grown silent, except for Felicity speaking, and she felt a little self conscious, but she pressed on, “When I first met Laurel, I had been…interested…in Oliver for quite a while, even before I knew what he did with his nights. I knew their history, their past, and I was a bit intimidated. Okay, I was a _lot_ intimidated. Here was this strong, passionate, fiery, heroic lawyer that stood up for people every day, that tried to make the world a better place for everyone, a fair minded and good person. Beautiful, with a beauty that went far beyond simple looks. And there was me, a nerdy computer geek IT nobody.

“More than that, though, after I joined Oliver’s little crusade, and she discovered the truth about all of us, she didn’t hesitate to step up and try with all her might to live up to Sara’s example, to do the kind of good she always wanted to do, not just in the courtroom, but out on the streets as well,” Felicity continued, wiping her eye absently.

Taking a deep breath, she continued, “It wasn’t easy trying to be noticed and seen with Laurel and Sara both around. It was even worse trying to find some meaningful way to contribute. Somehow, typing away on a keyboard and being an annoying voice in everyone’s ear didn’t seem enough. Laurel thought differently, though. She always made me feel needed, valuable, like a true part of the team, and not just glorified tech support.”

Everyone remained silent, listening to her, staying so silent in fact that she grew even more fidgety and nervous, though she tried to hide it. “When I felt heartbroken and beaten, Laurel always had a hug and a kind word. When I felt useless, Laurel always knew what to say to prove to me that I was wrong. When I needed someone to listen, to be a friend, Laurel was always there. It didn’t matter if I was pining for Oliver, berating myself for making some stupid mistake, or if I were feeling like I was having a meltdown, I would always look up to see Laurel holding out a hand to help me across whatever bridge I was trying to cross.

“I never had a sister, and I know she certainly wasn’t my sister, but if I had ever had a sister, I’d want her to be like Laurel.” Felicity took another long drink, emptying her glass, and she set it down, turning it slowly. “There’s _so_ much more I could say, so many things I could tell you about what Laurel was like and what she meant to me, but they’d all come down to the same thing, more or less. Laurel was like the family I didn’t have, but I definitely needed, and she never for a moment hesitated to treat me that way.”

Glasses refilled and everyone seemed to be reflecting both on Felicity’s words, and their own thoughts and memories. The silence didn’t last too long, however, when Thea cleared her throat.

“I’ve known Laurel and Sara literally my whole life,” she said, catching Sara’s eyes with her own for a second before moving to everyone else’s face. “They were always around the house, and Tommy, and of course Ollie and I were always in the middle of it all as well.

“Ollie and I have always been really close,” Thea continued, brushing her hair back from her face with a light sweeping gesture. “But when he and Laurel were together, when they were just friends, whenever, it didn’t matter. Laurel was always, _always_ there to listen, and help me in any way she could. Sometimes, all she did was listen, but that was more than enough.”

She stared into her glass a moment, as everyone listened, and drew a deep breath. “After Ollie and Sara disappeared, after everybody thought they were dead, I got into a lot of things I shouldn’t have. Drugs, being stupid, you name it, I did it. Nobody could reach me. Tommy tried, but I just kept going right back to the same old thing. I was hurting, hurting in a very bad way.”

Her glass had left a ring on the table, a standing ring of water where it’d run off her glass, and she absently began doodling with the water, using her finger. “Laurel was hurting too, hurting bad. She’d just lost the guy she was in love with, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and found out that not only had he been involved with Sara, but that she’d lost them both in one swoop. She was angry, hurting, and probably felt everything but nice and friendly. Even so, she was there for me. She kept me from falling when I’d stumble. She’d help me up when I fell. She constantly reminded me that I hadn’t lost everything because I’d lost Ollie, and my friend Sara was gone too. She reminded me I still had family. Maybe not blood, but family.”

The sound of the clock on the wall, an ornate brass affair, ticking loudly echoed through the room for a moment. “When I wasn’t sure about becoming involved with Roy, Laurel encouraged me to follow my heart. When Malcolm…I _refuse_ to call him Dad…brainwashed me and had me kill Sara, after she’d so recently been discovered to be alive, she could have done like pretty much anybody would have done. She could have hated me, and wanted nothing more than to see me dead. Instead, she struggled with herself to understand that though I killed Sara…sorry about that, again, by the way, Sara…it wasn’t my wish to, my plan to, or anything I set in motion myself. No matter how you slice it, brainwashed or not, it was my hand that killed her. Yet, she refused to let me blame myself, and she kept her faith in me, even still.”

She sighed softly, and felt the sting of tears welling in her eyes, but she fought to hold them back for the time being. “Like Felicity, I could go on all night about how Laurel was this amazing, wonderful person, and friend, and family member. I could sing her praises to the high Heavens. It all means the same thing. Laurel was loved, and she’s missed.”

Kara and Joe listened as intently as everyone else, and neither of them had any trouble imagining exactly what was being said, because even in their limited experience, they knew what was being said was the truth, without a doubt. It seemed like stories were going in a sort of round robin around the table, and each thought about what they might say, anything that might even approach the tiniest relevance of what the others were recounting.

John finished his drink, and studied the others in the silence that had gathered after Thea’s words. Finally, he started speaking, “I wasn’t sure about Laurel coming in at first. I knew she was Sara’s sister, and Sara had just started going out with us on our little nightly excursions, but she and Sara seemed like completely different animals. So, being trained to be suspicious of everything and everybody, I was cautious.”

A smile graced his, Oliver’s and Sara’s lips as he spoke, each apparently remembering the things he was speaking of. He didn’t lose a beat in his narrative, though, as he continued, “It seemed like the blink of an eye before I not only trusted her, but she was my friend. Laurel is one of the best people I’ve ever known.

“She seemed like she knew things that you, yourself, didn’t know about you. She knew how to get to the heart of things. When I thought my brother, Andy, was dead, and his wife and I grew closer than we already were, I wasn’t sure if I was trying to start a relationship with her, just be there for her and Andy Jr., or what. It was Laurel that told me to follow my instincts and my heart. When Lyla and I started coming into contact with each other more and more frequently, though we’d been divorced some time, Laurel convinced me to be open to whatever might come or develop, and here we are, married again, and happier than we’ve ever been.

“Every time I’ve needed someone to listen, someone to just nudge me in the right direction, even if I knew which direction I needed to be headed in, Laurel was there.” His voice sounded odd, a little different as he drowned whatever might be threatening to spill out in the rest of his drink.

“There aren’t words enough in the world to describe how good, and special, Laurel was to everyone she knew. She’s definitely and sorely missed.” He poured himself another drink and studied it for several moments.

Oliver looked over at Sara a second, as if silently asking who should go next, then began, “I’ve known Laurel practically my entire life. We were the best of friends as kids. As we grew older, we were sweethearts. In high school and college, we were lovers. Through all of that, regardless of our relationship at any given time, we were always family. Laurel inspired that feeling in all of us, I think, in different ways.

“I loved, and still love, Laurel in many ways. We were no longer lovers, but more like two parts of a greater whole, like a wheel of which she was a hub, and I was more like a spoke.” He paused for a moment, as if playing a memory back in his mind.

“To make a long story short, no matter what, no matter where our lives were going, what we were doing, or what was happening around us, even if we were on completely opposite sides of a subject, that bond that we shared was always there. Family. Even as we spoke our final words before she went into defib, she told me that she was glad that I found real love, and she hoped very much that I could find my way back to it. Every time I feel defeated, every time I think I can’t go any further, I can hear Laurel urging me onward. She always inspired me to try to be the sort of man that she saw inside me, that I never seemed able to see.”

As everyone’s words seemed to sink in, Sara fidgeted with her glass, turning it in circles. Her voice was quiet as her blue eyes moved over the different faces before her. “Laurel was my big sister, yes. She was my best friend. She was almost everything I ever needed at any given time. Everything except the obvious things she couldn’t be, of course.”

Everyone shared a soft chuckle at that, and even Sara smiled wanly. After a deep breath, she went on, “A lot of people helped shape what I became, who I became. Mom, dad, people I admired, people I knew. Of all those people, though, I think Laurel had the most impact on me. 

“I never thought I was capable of making the kind of difference that she made, of being able to do the sort of good that she did. The funny thing was Laurel didn’t believe that for a minute. She saw all that inside me, even though I didn’t. I want her, wherever she is, to look at me and be as proud of me as I am, and always have been, of her. 

“Like Thea said, she was always trying to save the world, and she tried to save everyone in it. Even if they didn’t think they deserved to be saved, like me. Laurel never gave up on what she knew to be true.” 

The mood seemed serious, but bittersweet at the same time. Everyone had wistful smiles on their faces, faint though they might be, as the others all voiced a very tiny portion of what they thought and felt concerning their fallen comrade. Nobody in the room was under any illusion that everything that everyone wished to say had been said. Even as summaries, they were far more brief than what they wished to bring to light. But they had been a beginning, an introduction to a much longer narrative.

Kara felt out of place, to be honest, and if Joe’s expression was any indication, it seemed like he did as well. All of these people had known Laurel most, if not all, of their lives, or had known her for years. Kara and Joe had known her barely a year, and hadn’t had contact with her in a large portion of that time.

“I know I didn’t know Laurel as well as all of you did, and I don’t pretend to even try to think I did,” Kara began, nervously looking from one person to the other. “But at the same time, Laurel told me that friends and family are measured by the quality of their relationship, not how much time had passed between their first meeting, and the present. She said if the quality of the relationship is low, you could spend centuries having known one another, and the relationship would be as superficial as a cloud. But if the quality of the relationship was good and strong, a single day of a good quality bond far outweighed a low quality relationship of decades.

“I think we all know what kind of person Laurel was, and most likely have a good idea of what she was, specifically, to every person she knew,” she continued. “Laurel and I met under the most terrible of circumstances. I was fighting for my life against a drone, specifically configured with the right weapons that could very well kill me. I had no real defense against the thing straight on, because its weapons were literally deadly to me. Suffice it to say that if I’d had to go against it any longer than what I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, telling you this.

“She didn’t know me, didn’t know anything about me other than what she’d heard on the news, or read in the paper or something, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t invulnerable, she didn’t have super strength, or vision powers, or any of the sort of abilities I have. She was just a human being, restricted by the same physical limitations as any other person on this planet is. The drone could very well have killed me, and much more easily than I care to think about, which meant it could be absolutely devastating to her if it turned its weapons on her. 

“That didn’t matter to Laurel. She charged in, anyway, her and Joe here. They helped keep the drone occupied until we could destroy it. Even so, it still almost killed me, and the pair of them stepped up to keep National City safe until my sister could figure out a way to help me. They inspired me, they had no powers, they were just ordinary people, but they didn’t hesitate or flinch in the face of whatever dangers they might have come across. My powers make things I do look easy, sometimes ridiculously so. Their power is one that all of my powers together can’t top, the power of human bravery and selflessness.”

The rest of the night was long. They all stayed up, and relayed funny stories, anecdotes and other little memories of their experiences with Laurel. The new friends laughed together, were sad together, and experienced an entire spectrum of other feelings until the morning light started peeking through the overcast sky. 

By the end of the night, when they all decided to catch a little sleep, Team Arrow and the two visitors from National City had gone from strangers mentioned in relayed stories and memories to starting down the path towards friendship. Each side had learned and gained a lot from the other. Both were stronger for having opened up to the other side of the coin.

The following afternoon, after everyone had awoken and gotten themselves together, they all found themselves at Laurel’s grave, each bearing a single yellow rose. One by one, they laid their roses at the gravestone, said their silent farewells to their fallen family member, and waited to welcome each of them back into the fold of the bond between them that had been forged the night before.

The new friends spoke for a short while after every rose had been placed, and finally had exited the cemetery, heading back to the loft. Meanwhile, behind them, the wind blew gently through the crisp early winter air, and the petals of the yellow roses fluttered until the seven roses settled into a half circle in front of the gravestone, looking for all the world like a bright sunny smile, beaming towards Laurel’s family, both blood and extended.


End file.
